Will You Also Leave?

20^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle B

This has been a tough week to be a Catholic.

But then, being Catholic is usually a challenge, isn’t it? The scab of sexual abuse and the failure of leadership in the church has been ripped off once again, and I think most of us don’t really know what to do or how to react. We are embarrassed, outraged, saddened, frustrated, outraged, hurt, outraged, and betrayed. Some have circled the wagons and tried to defend the indefensible. Many have used it as an opportunity to attack this group or that. And, just like 16 years ago, I think many will leave the church because of it, and that’s saddest of all.

Coincidentally, last week the Pew Research Center published the results of a study they undertook of Catholics, and members of other Christian denominations, who no longer attend religious services. Among Catholic respondents who rarely attend Mass, 47 percent said they practice their faith in other ways. Under 20 percent said they rarely attended because they haven’t found a church they like, they don’t like the sermons, or they don’t feel welcome. Similarly, under 20 percent said they lacked time, had poor health or problems with mobility, or lacked a church in their area.

About 12 percent of self-described Catholics who rarely attend Mass said they didn’t attend because they aren’t believers. I think that number would be larger if they re-took the survey now. For many without a firm foundation of understanding and belief in the Church, this scandal will probably be the last straw.

Catholic churchgoers were somewhat more likely than other Christian churchgoers to say it was important to attend church to continue the family’s religious traditions; to please family, a spouse or partner; or to fulfill a religious obligation. They were less likely than other Christian churchgoers to attend to become closer to God, to become a better person, to find comfort in times of sorrow, or to be a part of a community of faith.

I find it striking that nowhere is a belief in the real presence of Christ in the eucharist even mentioned. Maybe that’s why they no longer attend. All those reasons listed for no longer attending or even believing are really just symptoms of a total misunderstanding of what being Catholic is really all about. They are really very self-centered reasons that focus on superficial things, me-centered things. There is no sense of gratitude or even understanding of the gift.

Let’s take just one of these findings, the largest percentage, almost half, that say that they practice their faith in other ways. They claim to be Catholic, and believe in God, but don’t come to Mass. For a Catholic, how can that be if we are to believe Jesus in today’s gospel? How can there be any other way to practice your faith than the eucharist? To us, the eucharist is not something we do, it is who we are. You cannot find that anywhere else but here, in the Mass. People who try to fill their souls in other ways will never be satisfied. It isn’t about tradition, or the sermon, or an obligation, or even finding a convenient Mass time. It’s about Jesus Christ giving himself to us in the most intimate way possible.

They don’t understand the gift.

We hear the remarkable declaration of Jesus today that unless we eat his body and drink his blood, we will have no life within us. Next week we will read that when he said this, all but the twelve left him. Each and every one of his disciples, except for his closest friends, left him. Each and every person who had been hoping that Jesus was the promised messiah, left him. Each and every person who he had miraculously fed with the loaves and fishes, left him. Each and every person who had just before wanted to declare him king, left him.

Do you also want to leave?

This reading is one of the main reasons I am Catholic. It is the main reason I remain Catholic. No matter what happens in the world, in the church, and in my life, it is this declaration of Jesus that keeps me here. Because I desire life. I crave life. Not just life here on earth but eternal life.

Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood
has eternal life,
and I will raise him on the last day. 

Isn’t that what it’s all about? Life is one. My life and yours had a beginning, but will have no end. It is all the same. And I want to have it. I want life in its fullest. I want the gift. I am grateful for the gift.

The word eucharist literally means thanksgiving. St. Paul says today to give thanks always and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ to God the Father. And that is what the Mass is. The Mass is gratitude for the gift. Have you ever been so full of joy about something, so full of the knowledge that something was good and positive and true that you felt it filling your heart? Have you ever wanted someone to feel what you feel and know what you know so badly that it physically hurt? And when the other person couldn’t understand it or feel it like you did you wanted to just grab them by the shoulders and shake them? “Don’t you see it? Can’t you see how important this is? Can’t you see how important this is to you, to me, to all of us? How can you not see it, how can you not feel what I feel? What can I do to help you understand?”

I feel that way oftentimes during Mass, and not because of the people I see here on Sunday. It is because of those who are not here. As western civilization rushes to secularization, our Masses are not as well attended, our churches are closing, and people who once were believers are leaving in record numbers, moving from belief to unbelief in anything. And it saddens me deeply. People are leaving Jesus now just as they left him then. Jesus was saddened by their lack of understanding, but he let them go. He didn’t call after them, “Wait, I didn’t mean it literally. I meant it was just a symbol!” No, he doubled down. “For my flesh is real food and my blood real drink”.

He wasn’t speaking symbolically, he wasn’t using hyperpole, it wasn’t a metaphor, a euphamism, sarcasm, irony, exaggeration, a simile, alliteration, or even a haiku. What is was is crazy. It was plainly spoken and plainly intended. “Eat my body and drink my blood. Do this in remembrance of me.” It is both an invitation and a command. How can this be? This is hard to understand and even harder to take. Who does he think he is?

I don’t understand it and never will. I will never be able to wrap my brain about how it happens. I just know why it happens. For life within me. And that’s enough for me. I trust Jesus. I trust he is who he says he is. I trust that he has given me the church, made up of imperfect people, to guide me along the way. All we are are beggars helping each other to find bread.

The world is starving, humanity is starving, and yet we refuse to eat. There is a great banquet laid out before us, a spiritual feast that will fulfill all hunger and desire, and we refuse to eat. Why do we not recognize nor understand the gift?

Why do you come here? Do you come every Sunday or just when it’s convenient? Do you look forward to coming? Do you participate fully and actively? Not because you are supposed to but because you feel compelled to by the love within your heart? Why are you here? Is it out of a sense of obligation, or is it out of love for the gift? Will you also leave? Where else would you go? Where else can you hear the words of everlasting life? Where else would you receive the gift?

And what do you do with the gift you have received? Do you leave here on Sunday so full of joy that you feel compelled to tell everyone you see what you have experienced? And when they fail to understand, do you want to just grab them by the shoulders and shake them? Do you invite them to join you here? I don’t mean strangers on the street or your friends. What about your children? Your spouse? Why not start by offering the greatest gift possible to those you love the most?

I hope and pray that sometime in your life you feel like that. I hope and pray that you become so filled with the spirit that you just cannot keep it within you.

No matter how the people in the church fail, I will remain. No matter how much I fail, I will remain. Because I want life. Because I understand the gift. Because I understand that I will never be worthy of the gift. Because when all others fail me, when I fail, I know my lord will remain faithful to me. He has not left us orphan. His Spirit still fills the world. In him we live and move and have our being.

Where else will we go? Where else can we go?

I love to see people in procession coming up to receive communion. James Joyce wrote in Finnigan’s Wake, “Catholic means, here comes everybody!” I love to see your faces. Some are stoic, some prayerful or pius, some have eyes alive and others their eyes seem dead. Some come with heads bowed, some with eyes averted. Some seem nonchalant, confused, or bored. I don’t know how many times they come with tears in their eyes and I wonder at what pain, or joy, they are experiencing in their lives at that moment. Some look me right in the eye with a twinkle there. And every once in a while I will see a face of pure joy.

I especially like the small children who come up, clutching their parent’s hand. They look up at me and at mom or dad with a look of wonderment. What is that? It must be really good if mommy’s having some. Can I have some? And sometimes they make a grab for it.

Is that how you feel when you come up to receive communion? Like that little child? What is that? Can I have some? Why can’t I have some? Is there joy in your heart, put there by the knowledge and understanding and acceptance of the gift? That kind of joy cannot be found anywhere else but here. The joy of the eucharist is the deepest sense of gratitude that will persevere throughout all the pain and failures and suffering and betrayals. It is the joy of Jesus, who persevered through all the pain and failures and suffering and betrayals. If he himself was not spared those things, why should we?

Jesus told his friends at the Last Supper, “I have so longed to celebrate this meal with you.” He so longed to offer his body and blood for their redemption. He longed to suffer and die for them. He longs to celebrate his meal with you now, just as he longed to suffer and die for you. Twice in the bread of life discourse Jesus says that no one can come to the Him unless the Father has drawn them to Him. He has called you to Him just as you are. He has called you to become one with Him in the eucharist.

It is the eucharist that will save the church. It is the eucharist that will save humanity. Because it is the bread of life. Because it is Jesus Christ himself, died and risen, physically present before us, physically present within us. We become what we eat. We become Jesus himself, physically present to the world. You receive the gift and become the gift. You receive life and you become life.

Do you recognize that? Do you understand that? Do you realize the awesome responsibility that gives you, to take that gift of life out into the world?